Squinting up at the rampart, Drell's eyes widened as flashes of green metal caught his attention atop the wall, fending off what looked like a swirling black cloud of enemies. His jaw clenched in determination, and he bolted up the stairs, his daughter Ralina close behind.
As Drell reached the top, the first figure he spotted was a burly man clad in the strange green armour, single-handedly dispatching Felren off the wall with his shield and bare hands. His sheer strength and skill were astonishing.
"Bolgart, there!" another villager yelled, pointing below the wall.
Drell rushed towards the edge of the wall, looking in the direction the villager pointed. Elder Frouhn and her remaining fifty fighters were surrounded, desperately trying to hold their ground.
"Damn it, she needs help," Drell swore, his concern growing.
He turned to his daughter and commanded, "Stay here!" With those words, he propelled himself over the wall, landing heavily on a mound of black-furred corpses. Arrows continued to rain down in the distance. The air assailed his senses. Ignoring the grisly scene, Drell sprinted through the blood-soaked sand, heading towards the defending flashes of white fur.
Amidst the chaos, a massive Felren leaped towards Elder Frouhn, intent on delivering a killing blow. Acting swiftly, Drell intercepted the beast, driving his sword into its collarbone. The creature's roar abruptly ceased as it slumped lifelessly.
Frouhn looked up, relief in her eyes. "Ah, Drell. My thanks!" She looked almost about to collapse.
Drell nodded, his attention already facing the incoming Night Felren. A golden shield flew before his feet, and he swiftly picked it up, undeterred by the barrage of arrows from the walls. This time, spears glinted in the sun with a brilliant shade of gold. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he recognised the barrage of his men.
Just as more beasts approached, ten of his own warriors fell in behind him, forming a protective line with thick shields and gleaming spears.
“Ah, there he is," Drell glowered. “Let’s end this.”
Drell's gaze turned towards Elder Yurven, who stood before him on all fours, covered in a myriad of cuts. The savage Felren leered, his bloodied lips parting to reveal a twisted smile. Blood poured from a wound under his chin.
Drell locked eyes with the maddened beast. "You!"
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Yurven sniffed the air, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. "Oh? You've brought your little bitches with you," he taunted. "I’ve heard they’re feisty. I'll let them know you put up a good fight. Once they’re in my bed."
Enraged, Drell readied himself, holding his shield firmly and bracing for Yurven's imminent attack. But to his surprise, it never came. Confusion clouded his face as he searched the lifeless eyes of his foe. A black feather fell from the beast's jaws. A cobalt blade retracted from the skull of the dead Night clansman as Drell's old friend Kraid kicked aside the lifeless body like a rodent then saluted.
"Drell,” he said, his face ashen. “Imok approaches."
As the sounds of battle momentarily subsided, Drell's head snapped to the side, drawn by a strange shift in the atmosphere. There, in the distance, he saw her—the towering figure of the first Elder. Her grey coat seemed to ripple unnaturally, as if infused with a dark curse. Kraid, Drell's old friend, cast him a glance that spoke volumes—they both knew that this fight might very well be their last.
The sea of black fur parted as Imok approached. Elder Frouhn stood beside Drell, her breath ragged as she spoke. "Let's finish this," she said, determination etched on her face.
Drell nodded in agreement.
With the trench now overflowing with the dead, Drell and Frouhn led the remaining ground forces through the widening gap in the Night Felren ranks, charging towards the formidable figure of the first Elder. The white Felren and golden-clad warriors fought to hold back the tide at bay as Drell, Kraid, and Frouhn pressed forward.
Imok sneered at their approach. "Ah, you little cubs," she snarled. "What have you done?"
"As if you don't know," retorted Drell. "You left us with little choice."
A flicker of amusement danced in Imok's eyes as she twisted her snout towards the cliffs behind her, gesturing to the multitude of brown coated Felren waiting there.
"The Earth Clan has yet to have any fun," she remarked, her voice dripping with malice.
Drell bit back a retort, his glare fixed on the towering figure before him. Imok shrugged with disinterest, but in an instant, rage coursed through her entire body, propelling her towards them in a vicious pounce. Drell, Kraid and Frouhn narrowly dodged the attack, rolling aside to safety.
"Dirty little mongrels!" Imok screamed, her voice filled with venom. "Heathens!"
Kraid spun his blade, attempting to land a few blows on Imok's side, only to have the metal bounce off an invisible force. Imok's eyes glowed with an eerie green hue as she slammed her paw down, sending the blood-soaked sand into the air.
Drell felt an unexpected surge of weightlessness as he was propelled skyward, witnessing Frouhn and the others soaring ahead of him. Struggling to maintain his balance, he attempted to flip himself upright, but a searing pain suddenly pierced his side.
A long, sharp claw had impaled his flesh.
Imok sneered, withdrawing the claw amidst the cloud of crimson sand. With a heavy thud, Drell fell to the ground, clutching his gaping wound. Above him, he spotted Kraid glowing with a green aura as he soared through the air, his cobalt blade dancing with furious strikes against the impenetrable magical barrier surrounding Imok.
Imok's laughter filled the air as a green light emanated from one eye. She blinked and a blue glow burned from the other.
Kraid flinched at the sight, swiftly veering away just in time to avoid a surge of power unleashed from the ancient Felren's mouth. The destructive force arced through the air, tearing the flesh from the unsuspecting bones of the surrounding Night clansmen.